I am at this time reminded of a single moment we shared. The blades of grass shift effortlessly with the summer air. A trillion stars shine on your face and mine giving the night an almost permanents. Your hand slowly raises above you and I. “to feel the stars” you said. I wanted to believe you, as your hand whisked its way around the sky. Too scared to lift my own I watch you pull and swing, for a moment, maybe a lapse in judgment, I was afraid you would be taken from me, pulled away to live amongst the stars, leaving me here to only gaze at you if the clouds shift and the rotation of the Earth is right. Maybe I knew something then that I know now, that not having you would create the largest gap in my chest. My own hand reaches and cups yours, slowly pulling it back down to the ground, the wonderful sweet ground. I should have let you go then. I should have let you go.
With these memories, I will always cherish, though you will never know of them. I was a fool to think I could have you, to make things work out better than they did before and before and before. I bend and fold the fabric of time messing and skewing the line, in hope that this would play out as I wanted it to. As maybe you wanted it to. There is no way I can tell you that I will break and shatter your love for me. Is it better sometimes I wonder now, to let you feel it or to never feel it. I’m a fool, that’s what I do.
I never liked seeing you cry, my heart would sink to my stomach bob and turn with the waves of feelings for you. I tried to the best of my abilities, or I like to think I did, to be someone as wonderful enough to be loved by you. But the cost was heavy and high. I am not sure you’re reading this or you will ever find this. But the end goes like such.
Arms and tears, I held you while we sat on the bed. I try to tell you that I am sorry. If I knew my own meddling would have created this, I would have, maybe stopped myself. Your tears bear truths as they are absorbed into my shirt and my skin. I run my fingers through your hair and across your back. “I can change.” I whisper to myself. “I am not sure you can.” you whisper back. I felt the words through my chest, breaking open my rib change, but instead of guts, there’s silence, nothingness. You slowly pull away from me as if you weren’t sure that was what you wanted to do. I let your hair and skin slide from my fingertips. I needed to let you go, I didn’t want to, but I did. I sit on the bed as you phone your mother, I can hear the muffled sound of lies and the holding off tears. The door slams and the engine starts. I remain still on the bed. My body aches again and I wish for you. But I knew what I had to do. My device lets a small amount of ease slip over me. I think then of how I stole you. The switch is flipped and the room vanishes.
I sit in the cafe, and outside. I can see them both. I was hardly there, but present in three spots. The first me leaves and the second one watches. He makes his way to the door and I hurry after him. The door closes before I can get to him. I watch me from the window as I approach you. Your face lights as he sits down. He moves his hands while he talks, I can’t hear what he is saying but the words are still fresh. Watching them I begin to forget my presence as if I turned into a ghost. I haunt this memory as it unfolds in front of me. They leave the cafe but it’s still clear what I need to do. I collect myself off the pavement. And use my device to head home. The house is cold and lifeless as if every piece of furniture was there just to merely spite me. I fall onto the bed, pain returns for a second then I am numb again. I want something to come and fix everything.
My thoughts are murky as I wake. The bed feels huge as if an island I alone inhabit. I try at first to remove myself from the apparent vacancy of you. I cannot. Running my hand over the empty side of the bed, like the shore to this island it is smooth but cold. Your headlights shine through the windows, swiping their way across the room. I turn myself as if to bury everything in the sand. It becomes hard to breathe as the bed moves. I roll myself over to you. The ship of us had sailed, but now it runs aground. I feel your body as it trembles or my hand does. Would this be our last night would this be our last song. I try my best not to cry, but soon my pillow is drenched.